When I was in Sweden this year, I met a couple expecting their second baby.
They hosted The Swede and I over the New Year’s holiday.
We played Monopoly in Swedish and The Swede declared that I lost because I tapped out and sold all my properties at below cost value to his competitors.
The Swede won anyway.
And he declared me to be a cheater.
I’m sure if you asked him now he’d still say I cheated.
But I digress. . .
The other day, a picture flashed across my Facebook page of a beautiful newborn baby girl.
With the Swede.
Now, I don’t know about you but there is something very sexy about a man holding a baby.
It actually makes my ovaries shudder in the same way that my ovaries shudder when I see a fireman.
If my ovaries had a voice I’m sure they’d be screaming, “IMPREGNATE ME NOW!”
But as far as the baby goes, I can just imagine the fragrance wafting off her soft, peach fuzz head.
And just the thought makes me giddy.
There’s just something about that new baby smell that makes women want to self-impregnate so that they too can have a reliable source of it.
New baby smell = the middle aged woman’s crack.